The Wolf and the Lamb
by Thingy Person
Summary: Ilyana's sudden craving for lamb shanks leads to an unexpected encounter. SorenxIlyana, pointless dribble.


_**Author:** Just so you know, I love Soren. As a character. I'd also snog him against a wall if I had the chance, but let's not have that get in the way of my storytelling, shall we?_

_Note that this is centered around the "Angst on Legs" Soren, so don't expect anything eventful__. This is also my first shot at writing him, so I actually dragged it out a bit longer than I originally intended. Sorry if it's troublesome._

_(by the way, I have low blood pressure, and my hands feel cold to others all the time. It's awesome.)

* * *

_As evening fell, the soldiers began their highly anticipated dinner. The laguz warriors were set to eat in groups of twenty at seperate tents, while the Greil Mercenaries and the Merchant Convoy ate apart from the others. Nephenee, the relentless halberdier, Heather, the striking dyke, and Haar, the narcoleptic sceptic, chose to savour the soothing warmth of summer and camped outside to consume their meal.  
However, a certain thunder mage had finished early and began wandering through the camp. It was eerily silent now that everyone was huddled together. But she didn't notice. She was hungry. She felt like she was about to faint. For once, it wasn't the amount of food that mattered; all four of her helpings were unstatisfying and devoid of taste. She needed something in particular. Loads of it if possible. She didn't know why. Suddenly, she picked up the scent of meat, and her heart fluttered. She followed her nose to a source of banter and the noise of dining equipment she was so familiar with. There were many of these tents, but only this one contained what she wanted... She approached the warm glow of candlelight emnating from within the tent, akin to the seductive hue of grease and the inviting scent of a stove. She wouldn't last much longer...she peeked inside, and...Ah...over there... Lamb shanks! A plate full of lamb shanks! The brownish morsels were scattered over the porcelein, untouched in their virginal beauty, discarded by the ungrateful attendant that had taken them.  
She couln't contain herself anymore. She dashed towards her goal, raising eyebrows around her, but she didn't notice. She reached out a hand, ready to attack the unsuspecting foodstuffs, when a frigid hand caught her wrist. She gasped, it felt as if someone just poured a bucket of ice cold water over her arm. Before she knew it, she was staring into a pair of menacing crimson eyes.  
"Just. Ask."

--

Ilyana hadn't been feeling the same after that. Her sleep that night was somehow restless, as if that cold touch could wake her up any second. She only ate two helpings during breakfast, and she would jump two feet into the air whenever she was adressed. Did last night's event shake her so badly that she was afraid to act her usual way? No; the anxiety that loomed over her was not born of fear, and she would feel inexplicably disappointed whenever she was spoken to in the usual friendly demeanor. Whereas Oscar's voice had once ignited a spark within her stomach, the only thing she could think of now was her encounter with the humorless sage. Something had been radiating from those hostile eyes, something not even Zihark had emitted during the long time they had spent together. This new aura had surged through her and warmed every bit of her body, despite the chilling hand clenched around her wrist. Maybe the icy glare had taught her embarassment. But why this person? Had her sudden craving for lamb been a coincidence? She was determined to find out. But she hadn't seen him all day. There were war meetings and whatnot, but even so, she had to run into him _sometime_. In fact, she could swear she had never seen him before, or at least deemed him unnotable when she had. But she wouldn't forget him now. If only she could have another taste...

However, the evening hadn't left such a lasting impression on the raven-haired sage. Still hurting from the burns sustained in Mugill**(1)**, one word echoed through his mind as he stumbled out of the tent after the war meeting. _Stupid. Skrimir is stupid. Lethe, Mist and Lyre are stupid for failing their task. The generals we will face in Seliora are exceedingly stupid. Ike is stupid for not acknowledging my cursed heritage, and Ranulf is stupid for not noticing it. Titania..._

His train of thoughts came to a halt. Surely there was _something_ bad to be said about Titania. _Poleaxes are expensive? She's an exp sponge?_ He let out an annoyed growl as he strolled by the tents.

Someone approached from behind. His ears throbbed as an unknown voice pained him with its sheer impudence.

"Well hellooooo there!" He cringed, and turned around to see a blonde woman with a roguish face invade his personal space. "You're so cute! What's your name?", she continued, dangerously close to pinching Soren's cheeks.

"Excuse me?", he hissed back, accompanied with a glare. Upon hearing his voice, Heather backed off.

"Wow...good luck with that." Her expression turned sour, she turned and left, leaving the bewildered sage alone. "Tranny", she muttered to herself. Soren stared at her retreating backside for a few seconds before returning to his objective.

Soren was headed to the supply tent to view the newly arrived units' status. He was creeping as silently and discretely as always, but stepped on a fallen twig as he headed around a corner, flinching slightly at the loud noise. A girl with lavender air turned around frantically and made a frightened noise. Unphased by the sudden "Ah!", Soren ignored her.

But when the girl , he looked her way. She was backing away nervously. Soren cocked an eyebrow. _Great, I frighten girls now._ "Is something wrong?" he asked out of amusement rather than concern.

She shook her head neurotically. "N-no, sorry..." And with that, Soren continued onward.

_I honestly don't recall the armory being this lacking. Oscar will have to make do with a javelin for now. Titania's throwing axe is in bad shape, but if Haar has one, that might not be a proble-_

Soren stopped abruptly. He was being followed. He slowly looked over his shoulder. _It's that rib-woman from yesterday_, he realised, when he noticed the same girl watching him from a small distance. "May I help you?", he inquired, now slightly worried about whatever was causing her odd behavior. He became even more uneasy when Ilyana began blushing madly.

Distressed, Soren inspected his frontside immediately to see if all of his clothing was in order, but he didn't find anything wrong. Then it hit him like a block of concrete. He felt the heat rise to his face. _That's not possible_... Sparing her no more attention, he paced off into the opposite direction before his cover was blown. Soren thought he could hear a faint "Wait!" as he left.

_This is insane_, he kept repeating to himself. _I told her not to touch my food. What kind of an impression could that have given her? Do I look like I'm that type of person? I don't even like her, do I? _Soren shook his head in embarassment. _No, that didn't mean anything. I overreacted. I'm losing my head over nothing. _He took a deep breath._ If I don't focus on our upcoming battle, there'll be hell to pay._

_--_

"Make rows and march into field", Istvan commanded, completely ignoring his advisors. "When enemies come, you do chop-chop and we swag bounty, yes?"

The soldiers replied with a collective "Aye!" and began marching from Seliora Castle. Istvan himself mounted his wyvern with the wrong foot.

Half a mark later, Istvan and his batallion were positioned on the fields, ready to hunt some subhuman. He squinted, and managed to discern the approaching army. "Enemy come in small numbers...must nab commander while rest is not looking!"

He began flying toward the attackers. "Ho, what? Have subhumans and wyverns conspired?", he questioned, as Haar flew toward him. The latter stopped right in front of the other rider. "G'day, mate." "What is this?! Are you not subhumans?"

"Eh?" Haar inspected himself from head to toe. "Oh, you're right. I'm not. Never mind then", he replied, and he made ready to go away again.

"Wait!" Haar looked at him quizically. "You are small-time bandits, yes? You may pass into our land if you do favor."

"Sounds interesting", the one-eyed man amended, while making an indescribable mix between a hiccup and a yawn. "What are your demands?"

"We demand-" "BUUUURRRRRP"

Haar was one of few people who could burp by swallowing air. He smiled at Istvan in amusement. The latter was rendered speechless.

_Who knew Haar was so good at negotiating_, Soren mused reproachfully. It had been Ike's idea to seperate the leader from his forces, though Soren thought it no more than a frivolous attempt at entertainment. There isn't much fun to be had during war, but Haar should've been fighting as usual to help minimise the risk of casualties. And it's not like the enemy commander had much authority to begin with.

Worse yet, Soren was not at Ike's side. While the latter was out with the vanguard in the forest to ambush the enemy, Soren was tasked to help the rest in stalling the Begnions near the marches. Thing is, he was having a fit of paranoia, and it may or may not have had anything to do with Ilyana's odd behaviour. If only Titania or Oscar or even _Mia_ would've been in his group, he would've felt a little safer. But no, he was stuck with Chinnon and Gaytree, as well as some other rabble that probably couldn't care less if he was in danger. He honestly felt as if they were going to leave him to die at any moment. Shinon could make a "slip-up" and let an enemy through, and blame the late strategist for the half-baked plan of making a wall when the sniper's only purpose in life was to dodge attacks. And what was going on behind that helmet of Nephenee's? _I bet she's waiting to harpoon me when no one's looking..._

Soren was shaken out of his thoughts when the man with the pink ponytail yelled at him. Brom had gotten himself injured in a bout with a Begnion swordmaster, whom Soren could've dispatched easily, and was forced to retreat. "Who's gonna replace him?_ You_?You do realise that you're the only reason this cruddy wall exists in the first place, right?" Gatrie joined in with an innocent "Yeah", oblivious to the malicious nature in Shinon's remark. Soren returned the glare without giving his sinister mullings away. "Break up your positions for now and kill off the remaining soldiers. Brom can heal his wounds by the next wave." "While you run away and watch us get killed? Just who do you think you are?"

What Shinon said made absolutely no sense. But he didn't have to. The sniper surpressed a smirk; he had hit home.

_Of course I'll run away. That's the point. Fleeing is better than being a burden. It's not like they can't handle things without me anyway. _Even so, Soren couldn't summon the courage to argue. _ I thought Ike helped me get over this, but I..._ Sweat trickled down his forehead. Without Ike beside him, Soren was nothing. Despite his past and his cursed heritage, he had found acceptance and promoted into a human being, just like everyone else. He had Ike to remind him of that. But now, confronted with Shinon, he reverted back to the little pile of sacriligion he thought he had put behind him. Nephenee had begun staring. Any more silence and Shinon would finish him off.

"Need any help?" Soren felt a wave of relief when Boyd's annoying voice resounded from behind him. "Ikey boy said you might need an extra dose of awesome to bail you out." Shinon's expression didn't change, but the hint of pleasure behind it made way for frustration. He never got a lot of chances to put the whelp under pressure like this, seeing as that blue haired loser wouldn't let him. But now Boyd had to come and ruin it. The warrior assumed Brom's previous position and was thanked profusely. Shinon went back to focusing on the battle. Gatrie was eyeing something behind Soren. "And what are you doing in a place like this, little beauty?", he slurred out in his usual lovestruck undertone.

"Oh, she insisted on coming. Not like I need help anyway."

To his horror, Soren turned around and saw the one person he did not wish to see right now. Again, a blush forced itself onto his cheeks, but he was too flabbergasted to make an attempt at hiding it. Thank god the others had stopped looking (except Gatrie, but that didn't matter). She seemed equally distraught, tugging at her hair, knees rubbing together. However, Soren felt strangely reassured by the quivering girl in front of him. He thought she'd want to stay away from him after his callous response. Instead, she had sought him out. The despair Soren had felt moments before slid off him. He felt the sudden urge to run up and squeeze the life out of her, but he figured that wouldn't be conductive to anything. Instead, he just broke the silence. "So, you've come to help", he stated. The only thing hinting at the sage's new warmth was a slight shimmer in his eyes. Ilyana picked up on it, as she made a smile. Soren wondered how, when the same shimmer appeared in Ilyana's violet eyes. _Maybe it's because she tries to look that deep. _Boyd interrupted. "Hey! Get a room, you two!" Not like he was being serious. That was his second most used sentence, the first one being "Whew, I'm beat". Disgruntled, Soren broke the eye contact after a slight nod.

The rest of the battle was rather uneventful. Appearantly, the bulk of the enemy army was fighting Ike's team. Occasionally, a couple of enemies would stroll by, and then Nephenee would feast on their flesh and blood. Not really, but Soren considered it an amusing thought.

Sometime when the sun began to drop, Haar informed the group that the battle was over. "Whew, I'm beat", the grand warrior exclaimed, without having fought even once. By then, Soren had gone back to being a glacier as usual. Ilyana didn't bother adressing him any further.

--

Only after Soren and the rest of the crew had marched back to the camp, and Soren had briefed Ike with the report and was dismissed to enjoy some free time (meaning, more work), did the raven-haired boy realise he was reeling with stress. Not because of the paperwork or the battle, but because of the strain of the emotions caused by Shinon's attack and that other thing. His mind feeling like a barren wasteland, Soren longed for the state of half-sleep he seemed to attain through working or reading through the night. The mercenaries were eating at this time, so there shouldn't have been anyone to bother him further.

"Soren?"

_Oh lord._

Not only did she shatter his peace of mind for the third time that day, she also called out to him this time, and with his name no less. Reluctantly, Soren brought his face around to meet hers. They were both calm, though Ilyana was rubbing her hands in front of her.

"You're going to bed before dinner?", she asked. She seemed a wee bit sad. _Gee, a coherent sentence. This must be a special occasion._

"I could get you some more lamb shanks, if that's what you want,", he replied, in an attempt to feign ignorance. _Maybe she was just hungry and wanted me to feed her some scraps for dinner_, he thought in denial.

Ilyana lost her patience. She threw her hands to her sides and blurted it out. "I want _you_!"

That shouldn't have been a surprise. And yet, now that there was no way around it, it was as if Soren had never noticed the painfully obvious signs. His heart raced. _This is so wrong. We've only met eachother yesterday! What am I supposed to say? Sure, I'll be your boyfriend because you didn't, like, meet me once and try to avoid me ever since? _Still, it couldn't be that bad. Soren could think of a way to statisfy Ilyana's hunge- _No! Bad Soren. This is ridiculous, and that's final._

But then Soren remembered that shimmer in her eyes. It was there now, as well, now that he looked for it. Then he felt a pang of regret. _Has Mist ever given me that 'look'? What if she did, and I didn't bother to answer it?... _Ten seconds had passed. He felt as if this would be his only chance.

"I'll think about it", he said, bluntly, hoping this would statisfy her for now. Then, he averted his gaze, turned his back to her and resumed walking. He hadn't even planted his foot on the ground when Ilyana's arms wrapped themselves forcefully around his body. The sage gasped for air, due to the shock and the surprisingly strong grip the thunder mage had on his torso. Whenever someone other than Ike would as much as touch him, Soren would shake them off rudely and give them a resentful glare. His arms were free; he could've pried Ilyana off him. But he felt mellow. He couldn't recall one time in his life when he was approached this way for anything other than comfort. Had Ike ever given him that 'look'? Soren knew Ike's mannerisms to the last twitch. What he experienced now was completely new.

After a few seconds, Soren realised with great distress that Ilyana was now squeezing the life out of _him_. Flinching at the cruel irony, the sage concluded that he'd have to take action soon or he would have to forsake his paperwork for the time being. _So that's how her body puts all that food to use_, he mused, as his face rapidly turned blue-ish. Despite the alarming physical stress, Soren closed his eyes and found himself smiling for the first time that day, albeit painfully, his expression somewhat matching Ilyana's gleeful one. Something like this is enough to melt even Soren down. _I could stay like this forever_, he decided, and then he blissfully fainted in Ilyana's arms due to suffocation.

* * *

**(1)**I once had a story up that relayed the battle of Mugill, but I took it down because it was terrible. I might put it up again if I feel the urge to rewrite it.

_I must ask you one thing: Please don't bug me about a sequel. I can't picture these two mixing well in an actual relationship, so they'd just end up breaking up after it all. The pairing does allow for some really cute interaction, hence I wrote this story. I prefer a different Soren pairing anyway._

_  
Now that I look at it, this story is incredibly CORNY. I mean, gawd. What's wrong with me? This turned out soooo different from what I had envisioned __


End file.
